


And I’ll follow.

by fetching



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-06-26 10:41:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15661587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fetching/pseuds/fetching
Summary: Rhysand is living life. Nothing spectacular, just life trying to make his way as a lawyer in New York City. Then he meets Feyre, and falls head over heels for her. But, her life is far from simple, or easy, so it’s up to Rhys to help her find the light again-to help both of them.





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Ginger Ale and Smiles.

Rhysand liked to think that by coming to the bar, he was solving his problems, not ignoring them. He was wrong, and deep down he knew it, but temporary distraction seemed to be worth it.

He sat, hunched on the stool, his arms braced on the bar. He twirled his straw with his tongue, the ice cubes clinking the glass as they spun.

He didn't even know what he was distracting himself from. Lately, work was busy and annoying as hell, but he knew he could get through it. And he knew he could count on his friends and family. He always could.

He just felt...empty. Like a part of him was missing, and he just didn't know what. Sometimes, he'd just dismiss it as boredom, or even hunger

But he was always hungry.

Rhysand loved food. 

Sometimes he'd actually believe it was something bigger. He'd actually believe that it was something wrong with him. And again, nothing was even really wrong. It just didn't feel like things were going great either.

He sighed dramatically, squeezing his eyes shut.

The bartender, who's name-tag read Benny, rolled his eyes, tossing a dish towel over his shoulder.

"You wanna get wasted at four o'clock on a Tuesday, do it at a different bar, son", he muttered, shooting Rhysand a glare.

Rhysand narrowed his eyes, sitting back.

"I am perfectly content with the soda you provided me with, _Benny_ ," he sneered.

"Yeah, that's because you asked for fifteen shots of Vodka."

“I can hold my liquor well", Rhys said, defensively.

Benny rolled his eyes for what seemed to be the thousandth time.

"You are just all talk kid. Either appreciate the Ginger Ale, or get out."

Rhysand slouched once again, mad that he was labeled "kid", but decided to shut his mouth, instead choosing to sip the soda through the straw.

Benny nodded and huffed, shuffling to the other end of the bar, attending to the two old men on the opposite end of the counter.

As a matter of fact, Rhys could hold his alcohol well, and he wouldn't actually do shots, much less drink Vodka. No, the spirit was far too "bleh", for his liking.

But Benny wasn't having it, and despite his frustration, Rhys did somewhat appreciate that he hadn't actually considered giving him fifteen shots.

Rhys pulled out his phone, from the pocket of his black jeans. He dialed his cousins number, because what else did he have to do? He didn't want to go to his flat, and there was no way he was going back to his office.

Mor picked up after the second ring, he voice full of life. In other words, way to happy for Rhysand in that moment.

“What's up, Rhysie? I've been waiting to hear from you", she practically yelled into the phone.

Cauldron, she was so loud he actually  pulled his phone away from his ear.

"I texted you this morning", he muttered.

“I know, but I need to know what we're doing tonight. Cass and Az are bugging me too, so make up your mind", she said.

"I hear cars honking", she continued. "Where are you?"

He shook his head, grumbling. "I'm drinking away my problems at- hold on, I don't even know the name of this place."

Mor gasped. "What? Why Rhys?”

She paused. “Actually though, Rhys. Where are you? I could use a Martini."

"I'm kidding", he said, stirring the soda once more. "I'm drinking Ginger Ale. It's really not that bad."

"Oh", she breathed. "How boring."

He laughed, turning his head to the door as the bell chimed. Who else would show up at a bar at four p.m besides a bored paralegal attempting to be a lawyer, a.k.a, Rhysand, and two old dudes complaining about the boisterous teenagers that now ruled the planet?

But Rhysand literally almost fell out of his chair, as he took in the supposed customer.

"Mor", he said, quietly, into the phone. "I will call you back. I believe I have found my future wife."

He didn't bother to listen to what she said as he hung up, and shoved his phone back into his pocket, straightening his back.

His "future wife", was a young woman, who stumbled in on her phone, still standing in the doorway. She appeared to be frantically texting someone, and Rhys took this as an opportunity to fully look at her. But, not in a creepy way. More of an "I'm trying to figure you out", type of way.

She had long, soft, light brown hair, that fell in waves down her back, was wearing a long black coat, over a tight black skirt, long sleeved red v-neck, and black pointed heels.

She was exquisite. She was, without a doubt, he most beautiful woman he'd ever laid eyes on.

But, despite her beauty, something seemed odd about her. The way her hands trembled as she help her phone, how her eyes looked almost scared.

Quickly, she snapped her head up, eyes searching the room as she took in her surroundings. Her blue eyes landed on him, and stayed there for a minute, then went back to her phone.

Rhys felt somewhat satisfied, as she had sort of checked him out. He did have that effect on women.

He watched as she made her way over to a stool, a couple down from the one he was perched at. She looked exhausted. And honestly, Rhys was curious. He was tempted to strike up a conversation with her.

Fortunately, she caught him looking at her like a lost puppy. He could tell she wanted to roll her eyes.

"Can I help you?", she asked, tiredly.

For a minute, Rhys was caught entirely off guard. Usually in cases such as this, he'd resort to a pick up line, but this gorgeous stranger was far to sophisticated for that.

So, being the idiot he was, all Rhysand managed to croak out was, "Hi."

He mentally slapped himself. What the Hell was wrong with him? He searched frantically within himself for his suave, but it was nowhere to be found.

He was jelly.

"Hey", she said, tentatively. "What are you doing here at four p.m.? You are in your work clothes", she said.

"How observant, darling", he said with his normal smirk. At last he’d found his charm.

"Can't a man get a drink once in a while? And I could ask you the same thing."

"That's ginger ale", she said quickly, "and I was supposed to meet someone, but they blew me off. As usual."

He couldn't but help but note how her voice grew quieter, and he wasn't stupid enough to dismiss the disappointment in her eyes.

"Well," he said. "If you'd like, you could keep me company."

He tried to soothe her, but also used her abandonment to his advantage. Well played in his mind.

He was silently praying that the stranger would take her up on his offer, but then again, she was a complete stranger. A stranger that gave him butterflies, however.

She mulled over his proposition, and rolled her eyes.

"What do I have to lose?"

He smiled, and stood to move to the stool next to her.

"But", she continued, "Who orders Ginger Ale at a bar?"

Rhyand laughed, shaking his head. "It's not even that bad. No, I asked for vodka, but the bartender turned me down, so here I am."

She nodded, turning to face him fully. "What's your name?"

"Rhysand. But please, call me Rhys. All my friends do."

She narrowed her eyes, smirking.

"Who says we're friends?"

Oh, so this is how it was going to be.

"Well, unless you'd prefer the old people's company over mine, I'd say we are at least acquaintances”, Rhys said. 

The woman whipped her head around to the old men, and she cringed.

"I suppose your right."

"Anyway, darling", Rhys said. "You know my name. What's yours?"

She took a breath and smirked at him, before she finally spoke. "Feyre. Feyre Archeron."

"Feyre", Rhys said aloud, as is memorizing her name.

She then did something that made Rhys actually _lose his shit._

Feyre Archeron smiled at him. A bright, beaming, and painfully real smile. Damn him if Rhys didn't die right then and there.


	2. Chapter 2: Hopeful?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hehe warning there’s swearing in this chapter...

They had sat together at that crusty bar for what seemed like hours, and Rhysand was completely lost in her.

The way Feyre laughed, smiled, it all was enough to bring him to his knees. He was a hopeless romantic. 

That was until she'd glanced at the old clock hanging above the bar, and literally jumped out of her seat, stammering about how she was late and she had to go. 

"I'm so sorry, he'll kill me for his", she had mumbled.

Who would kill her? 

He wasn't going to lie, he desperately wanted her to stay, or at least her number, but she'd tensed when he asked for it. 

"What's the matter?” he'd asked. "And don't say you don't have a phone, I saw you with it earlier."

She had it within her to smirk, but it soon faded. Whatever she was going to say, it wasn't going to be pretty. 

"Rhys", she started. Her brows furrowed and she bit her lip. Good god. How bad was it gonna be? 

Had he done something?

"Feyre, if I did anything to make you upset, please tell me", he said, panicking slightly. 

She shifted on her feet and he stood up so he was looking down at her. 

"No Rhys, it's not you...I-I have a boyfriend."

He froze. 

All around him, he watched his word fall into flaming pieces. He watched as the sky fell into fire, and his tears only caused a flood. 

No, not really. 

He was just dramatic.

"Oh, I see", he managed to ground out, fighting his urge to fall to his feet. 

"That doesn't mean we can't be friends, Feyre darling", he continued. 

The words were hard to say.

But, at least this got her to somewhat smile. 

"That's true. Fine, give me your phone", she breathed, reaching her hand. 

Oh, Cauldron bless. She was still going to give him her number!

He handed it to her earnestly and she typed her number in with a few clicks, then shoved it into his chest. The fact that her hand was there made him ecstatic but he did nothing except for his signature smirk. 

Cauldron, she blushed! 

"Bye Rhys", she said, quietly, as she turned and sauntered towards the door. He watched her leave, admiring the view, until she'd disappeared. 

He still had a smile on his face when he turned back toward the bar, which quickly faltered when he saw Benny glaring at him with his arms crossed. 

"Get the hell out now, dickface", Benny grumbled, wiping the counter. The look in his eyes was enough. 

The new nickname was also slightly odd, but Rhys had heard worse. 

Rhysand didn't argue, just grabbed his phone and jacket and ran out of the bar onto the sidewalk. 

Some would even say he looked like a madman, smiling and dashing in the streets of New York City. 

"She has a boyfriend", he shouted at the sky. 

Passerby looked at him like he was insane.

"But that's okay", he continued, yelling still.

Good lord, would this lovesick boy be okay? 

"Because she has my number!" He again shouted. 

"Shut the fuck up", he heard a pedestrian grumble. 

And so he did, keeping his thoughts to himself on the rest of the walk to Mor's apartment, though it was extremely difficult. 

—————

"Yes, she has a boyfriend", Rhys mumbled, picking at the pasta Mor had made for the both of them. The rigatoni was slightly tender. 

Not that it mattered. 

Mor cringed. "Oooh, that's rough buddy. What're ya going to do about it?"

Rhys stopped playing with his fork and looked up at her, scooting his chair closed to the small table. 

"Well, to be honest", he began, "her boyfriend is a complete ass, and she didn't seem that into him."

"Okay", Mor said. "We can work with that. It's at least a situation that sounds slightly hopeful."

"Exactly", Rhys beamed. "The trick is to make her notice my charm. But also, I really do like her."

"Go on."

"So", Rhys said, over a mouthful of pasta, "it's not like I want to trick her into dating me."

"How noble of you."

"I'm serious Mor," he warned. 

"I know, I know. But don't get all broken-hearted when she might pick her boyfriend over you."

"But that's the thing", he countered. "I don't think she will."

She have him a pointed look. 

"It's just that she seemed so unhappy when she brought him up", was all he said.

“Mm”, she said, sipping her water. “Maybe they’re going through a rough time right now. All couples do.”

Rhys glared at her. “Stop saying things like that. You need to support me, cousin.”

She laughed, rolling her eyes. “Look. All I know is that you really, really, like her. And your a good person, Rhys. If she’s a good woman, then she’ll see it too.”

He smirked down at his dinner plate, but it faded as he replayed their encounter over and over. 

“Hopefully”, was all he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo this is a short chapter, I know, I’m sorryyyy. Also, I’d like to apologize for not updating for like, a super duper long time. Life just got in the way but here we are, so enjoy!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s some swears in this chapter.

It had been 3 weeks since Rhys had given Feyre darling his number, and he’d given up. 

After the first day, he played it cool, trying to wrap his pretty little head around the fact that she did, in fact, have a boyfriend. 

That word was poison in his mouth, so he tried not to think about it. 

Eventually, Rhysand accepted the fact that he’d never see her again, and tried his best to continue on with his life.

Work was piling up at his firm, and things were getting extremely hectic, given the season.

The holidays were around the corner, and if you lived in New York, you’d understand what that meant. 

Pure insanity.

He was balancing hosting Christmas festivities at his flat, and everyone in the group insisted on doing different things. 

Amren wanted to have a bonfire–but everyone agreed that would be a little hard to, erm, achieve, in an apartment.

“It’s fine”, she had said. “We can just drive out of the city and find a forest, and then set it ablaze.”

She was met with silence, at first, and then Cassian had opened his fat mouth. 

“Why the fuck are you so insistent on burning things? That’s like, demon shit, Amren”, he said. 

“Because”, she fired back at him. It’s fun.”

“Okay, both of you need to shut up”, Mor grumbled. “We need to figure out what we can all do for the holidays. I for one, suggest a secret Santa.”

She looked around the room. “Come on, it would be fun and easy. I’m not sure that a fire can be put in that category.”

“What about ice skating?”, Azriel suggested. “That’s always nice.”

Mor nodded, and Cassian sighed. “I can’t ice skate, Az. And you all know that.”

Yes, it was no secret that Cassian couldn’t ice skate for the life of him. 

“I agree with the idiot”, Amren grunted from her perch on a stool. “A nice, cheerful, holiday fire in the woods would be much more practical.”

“Enough with the fire, psycho”, Rhysand muttered. It was the first time he’d spoken. He’d been too busy staring out the window of his apartment. 

As one might say, he was lovesick. 

Amren whipped her around to him and gave him a dark look. “I’m hungry”, she said. 

“Okay, so you yearn for fire and food”, Mor said. “Right now, only one of those things is possible. Get up everyone”, she announced, rising from her place on the couch. “We’re going out to dinner.”

This seemed to satisfy everyone, so off they went, down to a fancy Bistro that Mor insisted on. 

————————————————————————

Feyre was surprised, to say the least, that Nesta had agreed to come for dinner. It hadn’t even been that difficult to get Elain, but dealing with Nesta was never a walk in the park. 

They’d settled on the fancy bistro near her apartment, but by the time they got there, the place was packed. 

This, of course, set Nesta off. But despite her angry attitude, Feyre was still happy that both her sisters were with her.

After she’d walked out on Tamlin 2 weeks prior, she’d been a nervous wreck. She was paranoid he’d come back, looking for her, so the company of her sisters was something she was grateful to have. 

She just wished she was brave enough to call him. 

Rhysand had been on her mind since the moment she’d left him, 3 weeks weeks ago. 

It was the first time she’d actually felt alive and happy in months, and she missed his company and the warmth that radiated off of him. 

“Miss”, the waiter called. “There are 3 seats available in the back, the last ones I’m afraid. However, they are part of a group, who’ve said it’s fine, but if you wish, we can separate them for you”, he said. 

“Jesus”, Nesta sighed, her temper already showing. 

Elain gave her a sharp look, and then turned back to the waiter. “No worries”, she said with a smile. 

“Yes”, Feyre said. “We’ll take it.” 

The waiter led them to the back, where a group was already seated. 

“Oh my god”, she heard a voice from behind her say. 

She turned at her sister, who’d stopped dead in her tracks, her face white. Nesta was staring, er, glaring, at a ridiculously handsome man with his hair pulled back at the table before them.

He smirked at her. “Hey there, Nes. Fancy seeing you here.”

His companions all turned to look, and that’s when Feyre realized she was in deep shit. 

She was met with the blue eyes of Rhysand, and watched as his features warmed up, and a smile replaced his look of confusion. 

“Feyre”, he said, laughing slightly. 

“Hey”, she said, still slightly tense, due to the staring contest her sister was having with the guy sitting opposite to Rhys. 

The blond girl next to him smirked. 

“I’ll be damned, Rhys”, she said. “It’s a Christmas miracle!”

Feyre pretended to ignore the fact that Rhys kicked her subtly under the table, his gaze up at her never faltering. 

Dear god.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey–once again, I apologize for the delay. Now that I’m on break, I’ll try and update more.


	4. Chapter 4

"This should be interesting", murmured Amren, drumming her manicured fingers on the table.

Azriel was inclined to agree.

Rhys was ecstatic, to say the least. After he kicked her, Mor had gotten up and ushered the three Archeron sisters into the open seats, like the host she was.

Introductions had been made, and it turned out Cassian and Nesta knew each other from the gym. Although, their relationship seemed to be rocky from the start.

But, it did put some pieces together. That's the girl he'd been talking about, constantly.

"Feisty", was his nickname for her.

Rhysand watched as Feyre observed his companions. Even after the gentle smalltalk ended and the real conversation began, she still looked tense.

Perhaps it was because her sister was waging a war on Cassian from across the table with her eyes. Every so often, Cassian would wink at her, which either made her blush or bare her teeth at him. They had a..bizarre relationship, but he supposed it was their own business. 

But, he couldn't ignore the fact that she kept looking around the restaurant, as if she was making sure someone wasn't there. Why in gods name was she so cautious? 

He observed as she seemed to snap out of whatever daze she was in and tune in to what her sister, Elain, happened to be saying.

"Anyway, it was very kind of you all to let us sit with you", she said. "This is the only Place Nesta will come to."

Everyone laughed, Cassian intentionally the hardest, which made Nesta only bristle and glare at him harder, if that was possible.

"Anytime", Mor piped up. "And little Rhysie over here gushes about Feyre all the time, so this is perfect."

Rhys went rigid, his glass stopping midair.

Everyone laughed, Feyre noticeably turning beet red.

"Cousin", Rhys growled. "How considerate of you to say that."

"Your welcome", she mumbled, chewing a piece of bread. ———————————————————————— All the food eventually came, and everyone  soon became distracted in what they were eating.

But Feyre couldn't hide her look of surprise as she beheld her sister and Cassian.

She had turned to look at her sister to tell her something, only to find her mouth slightly parted, as she gazed hard at the man across the table.

Cassian appeared to be licking his fingers one by one while looking her dead in the eye, and the two of them didn't seem to notice, or _care_ , that everyone else at the table was watching them.

"Cassian, you disgusting oaf", Amren said. "We can't take you anywhere."

He just smirked, and Nesta looked down quickly.

Eventually the tab came, which Feyre made to grab. However, Rhys gently pulled it from her hands, insisting he'd pay. Reluctantly, she sat back.

"Well", said Mor. "Anyone fancy a stroll?"

"What is this, Victorian London? Who says that?", Amren muttered.

"I'm down", muttered Azriel, a man of few words.

Then, the group looked toward the Archeron sisters. "Care to join us?"

Feyre hesitated, but Elain answered for her. "I think that sounds nice!"

"Bloody Hell", Nesta groaned standing from her seat.

"Hey, don't complain, sweetheart. You get to spend more time with me now", Cassian said with a smile.

Nesta turned to look at him, silent. Her eyes raked over him slowly, and the sly smile disappeared from his face. Looking him up and down, she clicked her tongue, then turned and made her way to the exit. He opened his mouth and then shut it.

"You got it bad", Rhys said, clapping him on the back as he was leaving.

Soon, they were all outside of the restaurant, and Feyre laughed as she saw Cassian and Nesta arguing up ahead.

Azriel, Mor, Amren, and Elain were all immersed in conversation, and Feyre looked around for Rhys.

A tap on her shoulder had her turning and bumping into him, and he smiled. "Well hello", he said, heading in the direction of the rest of them.

"Thank you for dinner, Rhysand", Feyre said. "You didn't have too."

"Any time, Feyre." They walked side by side in silence for a minute. Then, Rhysand stopped.

"Feyre", he began. "I, um. I'm really glad I saw you tonight." He scratched the back of his neck, looking down at her.

She smiled lightly. "Me too, Rhys. I, er, I meant to call you or text you, I don't know. Life's just been kind of hard lately."

He was inclined to agree. For one thing, the beautiful woman in front of him seemed more tired then the last time they'd met.

Almost as if her light had been dimmed.

"Can I ask you something?"

She looked back up at him. "Shoot."

Cautiously, he formed the question. "Are you alright?"

It was a simple question, but Feyre knew what he meant. She signed, stopping in front of a pharmacy. "Honestly, I've been better", she laughed.

He frowned.

"I, um, I left him. Tamlin."

He tensed. "As in your boyfriend?"

"Yeah."

Rhys felt like he could jump off a cliff. Not, like, in a bad way. But as if he could jump into the sky and fly, as if he could do anything, because this girl was single.

In any other circumstances, he would have made his move, but he could tell there was more to it.  Rhysand wasn't that type of person. In this case, he'd save his charm for later. He felt a deeper connection to her anyway. 

Anyway, for him, the world was bright, with glowing stars and sunlight  and he felt like dancing. There were rainbows and butterflies, and no longer did he hate the world.

He shook his head and opened his eyes to her her looking up at him, expectantly. "What happened?" he asked, forcing his happiness down for a second.

She shook her head. "He was awful. He wouldn't let me go anywhere, insisting I had to stay at home all the time. Once night he found out that I had left to visit an art gallery, and he lost it", she said, looking at the ground.

Rhys put a hand on her shoulder. But an art gallery? He had no idea she was an artist.

  "He hit me", she continued. "He went crazy. I told myself he was just protective."

Slowly, he processed that word. It made him see red. Both his hands were braced on her shoulders as her felt her trembling.

“He hit you?", He managed to ground out. 

"Yeah", she whispered. "I ran as he followed me, I ran out the door and I went to Elain's apartment. He knows where my own is, and I thought he'd find me there. But, its been two weeks since I've seen or heard for him, so I guess its all over." 

On the one hand, Rhys was grateful she'd gotten away and left him. He was sick and twisted, and despite the fact that Rhysand didn't know her well, he could tell what that son of a bitch had done to her. 

And on the other hand, Rhysand wanted to hunt Tamlin down and destroy him for ever laying a hand on Feyre. God save the bastard's soul if Rhys ever found him. 

———————————————————————

Feyre could tell what he was thinking, as she grabbed at him. "Rhys", she said. "He's gone now. You don't need to hunt him, or whatever it is your mind is telling you to do."

He didn't exactly smile, but he relaxed slightly.

"I can handle myself, you know", she said.

“I know."

At that moment, she was suddenly aware of the closeness between them. Their foreheads were practically touching as they stood, gazing at each others eyes. 

His eyes were so, so blue. She had noticed it the first time they'd ever met, trying to distract herself from them. It was as if he could see into her, and it was beautiful. 

She blinked and pulled back, stumbling slightly. She felt cold in that instant, and regretted it as she watched him hide his look of confusion. 

_Great. Now he thinks I don't like him._

She opened her mouth as if to say something, but he beat her to it.

“Let's go join the others. I don't want a fight to break out between your sister and Cassian." 

She nodded and forced a smile, but found herself disappointed on the inside.

Little did she know it, but Rhys felt the same way. 

Empty. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey hey! Ok so like, I’m literally doing nothing during my break rn so I’m trying to crank out as many chapters as possible so stay tuned folks! Also happy late new year!!


	5. Chapter 5

Feyre looked down at her phone.

_Holy shit._

Rhysand had texted her. As in actually texted her. Not like the times she'd imagined it. This was real.

She was sitting on the counter of her apartment, squealing like a little kid on Christmas–which, however, was just around the corner.

She reread what he'd said, just to make sure that her eyes weren't deceiving her.

_Feyre darling. It would appear my friends and I–you've met them all–have decided to go ice skating tomorrow afternoon. I was hoping you'd want to go with? Feel free to extend this invitation to your sisters as well. I know Cassian would love it if Nesta was there;)_

No, it wasn't exactly a date. Or was it?

Of course she'd go, of course. And of course she'd invite her sisters.

She was eager to text Rhys back, but then got hung up on whether it was too soon to respond. She didn't want to seem clingy or whatever.

"Screw it", she muttered. And besides, she remembered how heartbroken he had seemed when she met him the first time and told him about Tamlin.

A person she had finally pushed out of her life, thank god.

So, she started crafting a text.

_Hey ;) I can't wait to see you in a pair of skates._

No. Gods no. Way to flirty. Not her style. She deleted it.

_Hello. We will be there._

No! Who was she trying to be?! Now she sounded like an angry middle aged parent. Deleted, again.

_Hey–sounds fun! We'll be there :)_

She figured that's the best she could do. So, she hit send, and then shut off her phone.

She called Nesta first, to explain to her how she'd be forced to ice skate. She picked up on the third ring.

"What the hell do you want", she snarled into the phone.

Feyre cringed. "Hello to you too, sweet sister."

"Oh. It's you?"

"Yes it's me, idiot. Feyre? Your sister?"

"I don't save contacts in my phone."

"What. Nesta, what the hell..."

"Don't judge me. I just don't care a lot about who texts me."

Feyre wanted to laugh. "So you answered your phone, not knowing who it was, and thus decided to growl at them?"

Nesta paused on the other end. "Is there something _wrong_ with that?"

Feyre shut her eyes, hopping off her counter. "Jesus Nesta. Okay forget all that. I called for a different reason. Tomorrow, you, me, and Elain are going ice skating."

"No", her sister yelled. "Absolutely not. No. Feyre this is not a dictatorship and therefore you cannot make me ice skate."

"God, Nesta. It'll just be for an hour or so. It'll be fun, and you are going."

"NO!"

"YES!"

"Feyre. I cannot skate. It's physically impossible for me."

"What if I told you a certain someone will be there?"

Nesta went silent.

A minute passed.

"Just text me when we leave", she muttered, hanging up.

Feyre took it as a win. Let's just say her conversation with Elain went much nicer. ———————————————————————— Feyre stood in front of her mirror, mulling over her outfit. She told Rhys she'd met him and his friends at 1:00, and it was a quarter till then. She'd spent the last hour on her outfit.

Why? Because she was a nervous wreck.

Currently, she wore black leggings and an oversized grey knit sweater, her long hair in waves down her chest.

The rink was outside, and it honestly wasn't that cold out, which was a surprise for New York City in December. She shook her head. The outfit would have to do. She was about to be late anyway.

Feyre grabbed her coat and tugged her white hat over her head. "Nesta, Elain", she called to her small kitchen. "Let's go!"

Her sisters had come over for lunch, raiding her cabinets. "Coming", said Elain, who breezed out the door behind Feyre.

"This is _absurd_ ", muttered Nesta, following them. Her long hair was in a braid and her face was set in a permanent glare.

Feyre ignored her as they got in the elevator, and she pressed the floor button.

"Nesta, please try and be positive about this", she said, turning toward her sister, who was examining her nails.

"I have tried, but positivity has failed me."

"Oh my god", Elain groaned. "Nesta, you haven't even seen Cassian yet, save your self-pity for later."

Nesta rolled her eyes and Feyre shook her head, biting her lip. This, without a doubt, would be interesting. ———————————————————————— The thee of them got to the outdoor rink, and Feyre instantly was on alert for _him_.

As cheesy as it sounded, she could barley sleep the night before. Normally, she wouldn't get so hung up on a guy, but with Rhys it was different.

And god, she knew she'd only met him twice, but it was almost as if it was more than that.

Feyre was also unbelievably nervous. After their last encounter, things were slightly awkward between them. She was hoping to, well, _amend_ that.

She and her sisters, Elain beaming and Nesta muttering incoherently, arrived at the outdoor rink.

It was decorated with wreaths and lights, the perfect holiday aesthetic.

It was also, very, very crowded. She scanned the area, looking for someone outrageously gorgeous.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a group of young people milling around. A girl with short black hair was in the midst of kicking a tall dude with a man-bun in the shins.

Ah. Sweet Amren.

"Is that them?", Elain asked, pointing to the two of them. She followed her gaze, and saw everyone else. She laughed as she beheld Azriel, the quiet one, rubbing a hand over his face as he looked at Cassian, who was now on the ground.

"Yep", Feyre said, sighing. "Let's go."

She walked over, somewhat cautiously. The butterflies in her stomach were going crazy.

It was Mor who saw them first, flipping her shiny blond hair over her shoulder. "Feyre! You made it!"

"Hey", she said with a wave. "Sorry we're a little late", she exclaimed, throwing a glance at Nesta.

Cassian, who'd been fending off Amren from attacking him, was suddenly leaning against the railing of the rink, his hand going through his hair, which had _magically_ fallen out of its bun.

Nesta, of course, was glaring at him.

"Feyre", she heard Rhys say from behind her.

Oh gods. This was it.

She turned around to see him holding several pairs of skates. And, of course, he was still ridiculously handsome.

"Hey", she said, cheerfully. "Ready for some skating?"

Immediately, as soon as the words tumbled out of her mouth, she cringed. That sounded so cheesy. But if Rhys thought so, he didn't show it.

He only winked at her, which, of course, made her blush.

"Alright doofuses", he called to the rest of the group. "Come get your skates. Let's get this party started."

Everyone gathered round, grabbing skates. Soon, they were all out on the ice, except for Nesta, who claimed her skates weren't "working".

It was no surprise to anyone that Elain was a fantastic ice skater. She glided on the surface perfectly, adding jumps and twirls whenever she felt like it. "Show off", Feyre muttered, under her breath.

Rhys gave her a sidelong glance, and laughed.

She grinned, but on the inside, her heart was buzzing. He had no idea what that sound did to her.

She distracted herself from his perfect face and the fact that he was skating next to her by looking ahead at Azriel, who she'd only heard speak once. He was, of course, also a fantastic ice skater, and she watched as he and Elain went ahead with the grace of swans–or some other graceful animal, really.

Behind her, not even a minute later, she heard a crash, followed by a series of swears.

Feyre whipped her head around abruptly at the sound, Rhys sticking to her side.

Of course, it was Nesta. And she was a sight to behold.

Feyre groaned, a sound that had Rhysand instantly looking at her, as she beheld her sister, sprawled out on the ice with Cassian standing over her, laughing.

Cassian made to skate away, but was just as bad a skater as Nesta was, and fell backward on top of her.

"Asshole", Nesta yelled.

"Oh, like you can skate too", he muttered, pushing off of her. "And there are children here, don't use that terrible language."

"Shut up, you piece of-"

"Ah ah ah, no swearing", he said, cutting her off."

"Then can you please get off of me?" Cassian smirked, and pushed away.

He stood, wobbling, but regained balance. He offered Nesta a hand, and despite her so-called "hatred" for him, she took it.

He must have meant to pull her up, but as soon and she was off the ground, he went teetering backwards on the ice, pulling her down again with him.

Feyre couldn't contain her laughter, and soon Rhys joined her. "Should I help them?" She ought to, given how they were still in a heap on the ground.

"Nah", Rhys said. "I think Cassian is secretly very pleased that your sister is on top of him."

Feyre turned to him and hit his arm. "Gross. I'd think she'd rather maim him."

"Possibly, but it's obvious he likes her."

"I know", she said with a smile. She turned her back on her sister and Cassian, who still hadn't made it to a standing position, and looked at Rhys. "Shall we?", he asked, reaching for her hand. She nodded, internally screaming. ——————————————————————— The minute Feyre arrived, in her sweater and everything, Rhys was complete jelly.

He had tried so hard to maintain his swagger, but Feyre was his weakness.

Now, he held her hand as they skated, desperately trying not to fall. He didn't want to admit it, but ice skating wasn't his strength. All though, he was better than Cassian.

Feyre would look at him every so often as they went around the rink, and each time she did, he counted it as a point.

The silence wasn't awkward, thank god, but there was so much her wanted to talk to her about. Her turned to her as they went around a second time.

"So", he said. "What's your life story?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok lol not really a cliffhanger but next chapter will pick up where this left offf hehehe


	6. Chapter 6

"My life story?" Feyre was puzzled.

"Yeah. I want to know more about you, Feyre Archeron", Rhys said, smiling at her.

For a second, she was distracted by his flawless face. Then, it dawned on her that he was in fact talking to her.

"Oh", she stammered, suddenly all too aware of the fact they were holding hands. She supposed it was a good idea; opening up to him, given the fact that she liked him a lot.

"Well", she began, "As you know, I have two sisters, both of whom you've met."

"Yes", he said. "Both delightful."

Feyre laughed, and actually had the courage to nudge him with her shoulder. "No need to pretend with me, Rhys. Nesta is...a lot."

He shook his head, smiling.

"Anyway", Feyre continued. "We didn't always live in the city. I was actually born in California. Both my sisters moved out here as soon as they could, and I guess I did the same when my dad died."

He looked back at her, frowning. "I'm sorry to hear that."

She shrugged. "It was a long time ago."

For a minute he was silent. "What do you do?"

"As in my job?"

"Yes, silly", he smirked.

She smiled, looking back at the ice.

_I’m getting too distracted by his face._

“I’m an artist. I paint, and then work at a gallery, and teach art classes.”

“Really? You paint?” Rhysand looked astonished.

“Yeah”, she said. “I’ve done it all my life. It’s almost like writing with no words, you know?”

He slowed down on his skates, ignoring the people around them.

“I think that’s beautiful,” he said, pulling her closer.

Suddenly, she felt he face flush with color. “Really?”

“Yeah, really. It makes me feel like I’m the most boring person. I’m just a paralegal. I have a lot of respect for you now, Feyre.”

The way he said her name made her knees wobble, but she tried not to let it show. Not when he was so close her.

Not when he was breathing the same air as her, not when he was looking right into her eyes.

His free hand moved to her waist, his other still clasped with hers.

_Oh my god oh my god this is happening._

They stood so close that she could make out all the dark shades of blue in his eyes, as if the night sky met the ocean.

She tilted her head as he leaned closer to her, her hand moving to his shoulder. They were so, so close....

“WATCH OUT”, a voice screamed, followed my laughter.

Rhysand whipped his head to the source for the sound, and swore, Feyre untangling from him. Suddenly she was cold. 

He pushed Feyre out of the way, falling on his skates and she yelped. “What the hell?”

Her question was answered, though, as she looked see Cassian barreling through, laughing, with Nesta on his trail.

“I am going to kill you,” she was yelling, oblivious to the other patrons scrambling out of their way.

Once they passed, Rhysand skated back to Feyre, who was braced against the railing.

She watched as he laughed, coming toward her. “I’m sorry I pushed you, but I didn’t want you to get hit by those two.”

She nodded, smirking.

Despite her annoyance with her sister, she felt almost relieved. She didn’t know what she was thinking, preparing herself to kiss Rhys like that.

It’s not like she didn’t want too, she was just afraid.

She shook her head, ridding herself of those thoughts. She looked back to Rhys, who was again, staring at her.

“Should we call it a day?” He asked, gesturing to Azriel and Elain, who had both taken off their skates and were sitting on a bench.

“I guess”, she said. “My feet are kind of sore. And I don’t know where Nesta and Cassian went.”

That was true. In the minute she’d taken her eyes off the two of them, after they’d tormented half the people on the rink, they’d disappeared.

“She’s probably pouring that boiling hot chocolate down his pants”, Rhys muttered, looking at the cute little snack and beverage hut.

Feyre whipped her head around to him, but laughed.

“Honestly, I wouldn’t doubt that.”

She pushed off the wall and made her way to the exit, unaware of Rhys as he stared at her, almost in awe.

———————————————————

_She had no fucking clue of what she did to him._

Rhys was hopeless. He tried not to stare at her like a lost puppy as she took her skates off. How someone could be so perfect doing that, he had no idea.

————————————————————————

It had been three days since Feyre had heard from Rhys. After they skated, she’s tracked down her sisters and departed, with Rhys insisting that he’d call her.

After the first day and no word from him, she brushed it off and figured he’d get to her the next day.

But, he didn’t, and now she was left paranoid as she got off the subway on the way to Nesta’s place.

After checking her phone every 5 minutes, she realized she has a problem, and decide she needed a distraction.

So, why not use her sister?

She made it up the surprisingly fancy marble stairs of Nesta’s building, and found her door.

But, just as she was about to knock, the tall wooden door swung open, with a guy stumbling out.

In fact, he was still trying to put on his shirt.

The boy turned to face Feyre, making to grab his grey sweatshirt discarded in the floor.

“Shit”, she said, looking at him.

It was Cassian. Of all people of New York, Nesta chose to sleep with _Cassian._

“Oh”, he said, smiling slightly. “Hey Feyre.”

“Hey....”

“Look, gotta scram, but your sister is a fucking _animal_.”

Her jaw dropped, and she watched as he ran down the hall, leaving, with his man-bun flopping on his head.

She burst through Nesta’s door, ready to interrogate her sister.

She scanned her fancy apartmentand saw her sister standing by her ridiculous floor-to-ceiling window.

“Nesta”, she said.

He sister turned to look ather, with a smile on her face.

“Hey!”

Feyre froze. This was very, very unusual behavior. Why the hell was Nesta so happy?

She looked her up and down, and noticed she was wearing a particularly large flannel shirt, one that smelled like cheap cologne.

It was no doubt Cassian’s.

Feyre decided to take the situation as a distraction. A way to get her mind of Rhys.

“So,” she drawled. “When did you decided to sleep with Cassian?”

Nesta didn’t bother to hide her blush.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey hey hey!! Ok so it’s been a while, and my classes have all been cancelled cause it’s the end of the world where I live!!(-50 degrees Fahrenheit). All jokes aside, here’s this chapter, that I wrote today while binging Netflix shows. Hope you enjoy!!


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